


Paperclips and Bullets (and everything in between)

by IraBragi



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: (they work it out though), Getting Together, Jack being Jack, Jack failing to understand electronics, Jack is a bit slow on the uptake, M/M, Mac failing to understand people, Not Actually Unrequited Love, but they talk it out eventually, establishing dominance via pranks, little bit of case fic in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 19:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IraBragi/pseuds/IraBragi
Summary: I wrote this forever ago (back before the new season came out) and forgot to post it.  Originally it was superposed to be pure smut... then my smut developed feelings.... and several pages later I threw my hands up and made it fluffy and cute.  I hope you enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago (back before the new season came out) and forgot to post it. Originally it was superposed to be pure smut... then my smut developed feelings.... and several pages later I threw my hands up and made it fluffy and cute. I hope you enjoy!

“Jack, where are you going?  Are you ok?  What is it?”  

Jack pushed himself off the bed and felt blindly for his pants.  He could hear Mac on the bed behind him, but it sounded like his voice was underwater - muffled and distorted - and Jack didn’t trust himself to answer.

The house wasn’t exactly small but there are only so many places to sit and Jack found himself on the deck.  Bozer was gone overnight (some nerd thing for video makers) and the heat of the day had given way to a clear, beautiful night.  Jack glared up at the sky as if it had personally offended him.

Most people didn’t realize it when they met him - what with the hair, and the mouth, and the fondness for jumping out of burning buildings (although to be fair that was usually Mac’s fault) - but Jack Dalton is actually very good at making himself small.  It’s a thing you pick up when you spend half your life ducking flying projectiles and dodging bad guys.  How to find cover, keep your head down, and if possible keep something solid against your back.  He ignored the deck chairs in favor of the floor, leaning back against the railing lowered his chin to his knees, and let his mind wander.

Jack had always been fairly unfazed by feelings.  The army teaches you to live in the moment and it wasn’t like it was the first time he had been attracted to a teammate - or another man for that matter.  He figured he wouldn’t say anything (no point in messing up a good partnership) and eventually the infatuation would burn out, no harm done.  

That didn’t happen.

It was hard to pinpoint when exactly his feelings for Mac had changed from “assigned protector” to “best friend” to “head over heels, hopelessly, in love.”  At first MacGyver had just been this hotshot kid who had a knack for blowing things up and was weirdly allergic to guns - but then Jack had started to see the other sides of him: 

The stunning intellect and an innate goodness that would border on naive if it wasn’t for how doggedly Mac worked to fix things that he thought were unjust.  A basic belief that it was possible to make the world a better place, even in the face of the atrocities they had both witnessed.  An almost resigned conviction that everyone would abandon him eventually, that had turned into tentative trust as Jack proved over and over that he wasn’t going anywhere.  The stories Mac told about his grandpa that seemed like nonsense but also kinda made perfect sense at the same time.

For a long time after that Jack tried to avoid thinking about it at all.  When thinking about it couldn’t be avoided he reminded himself that even in the (unlikely) case that Mac didn’t just laugh in his face the minute that Jack so much as hinted at more-than-brotherly feelings, and even if Mac didn’t immediately demand another partner (even more unlikely) the kid deserved so much better than anything he could ever hope to offer him.  

Mac was brilliant and brave and handsome and, and, and, Jack couldn’t think of enough words to describe him properly.  He just knew how he felt about the kid - that he was the best person he’d ever known.  The awe of getting to work with Mac and watch him save every person on the team, as well as so many others.  It bothered Jack every day that Mac still blamed himself for not doing more.  Jack wanted to protect him, and hold him, be the one who made him happy.  He wanted to convince Mac, even if it was only just for a little bit, that the whole world didn’t rest on his shoulders.  Maybe even give him a ring and a promise that death was the only thing that could ever make him leave - and even then Jack was pretty sure that he’d fight any grim reaper who tried to drag him away.  (Not that that wasn’t already true but he wanted to make if formal.  In his daydream he wanted the whole world to know that he was lucky enough to get to stand beside Angus MacGyver.)  He wanted to see how those impossibly blue eyes looked in the morning, still filled with sleep, and run his fingers through that golden hair (after messing it up thoroughly first.)

He wanted so many things, and that was the problem.  Because none of that changed the fact that Mac deserved so much more than some old army guy who didn’t know the periodic table from a kitchen table and almost certainly would catch (another) bullet sooner rather than later.  

And then there was Nikie.  Weirdly she actually made it easier.  Both because Jack really did like her and the three of them worked so well together.  They were a well oiled machine.  Nikie was their eyes and ears, Jack keeping them alive, and MacGyver being himself;  brilliant and wonderful and prone to near death experiences.  

So Jack had kept his feelings tucked away where they wouldn't destroy the best things in his life and if he wasn’t quite joking when he said “I could kiss you” - well no one had had to know did they?

Then Nikie was gone and Sara was gone and it was just the two of them again.  Well, the two of them plus Riley and Bozer, but they were different.  Riley because she was like a daughter to him (the snarky, rebellious, makes-him-sick-with-worry-and-just-as-proud daughter that he had never had a chance to have.  Bozer because he wasn’t lying when he called Mac his best friend.  He wasn’t hiding any ulterior motives when he hung out and cooked hamburgers and passed around beers…   

Which brought them to tonight.  The mission had been bad.  Not Cairo bad, but bad enough that neither one had wanted to be alone tonight.  They ordered pizza and beer and kept inching closer together on the sofa until Jack could feel Mac’s breath ghosting across his shoulder a moment before the younger man dropped his head onto Jack’s chest.  Mac’s words, half muffled in his shirt, were a bolt of electricity running along his ribs.

“Kiss me Jack” and Jack wasn’t even sure that this was real, that he wasn’t dreaming, until Mac straightened up and fixed those impossibly blue eyes on him.

“You’re always saying you could kiss me, so do it.”  Mack had raised an eyebrow then with a small smile - inviting - and Jack’s brain went into overdrive (all the ways this was bad, Mac didn’t mean this, can’t do this! Danger, abort!) while at the same time he would have sworn that  all the air was sucked out of his lungs.  Mac’s didn’t sound drunk but maybe it was the stress of almost being killed talking.  He certainly couldn’t mean what he was saying.  Maybe…

And then Mac was kissing him, fierce and hungry, and Jack couldn’t think at all.  After that it was all blurry - touching and pulling and kissing like there wasn’t enough air between them.  Mac made a sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan when he kissed the shell of his ear and then Mac was dragging him down the hall and into the bedroom.

When they got there Mac had been almost frantic, pulling off his own clothes while trying to kiss a line down Jack’s chest.

“Mhhhh, yes - come on Jack hurry up” - only Mac could sound sexy while pouting - and he started working off Jack’s pants.

“Come on, come on!  Here -” and Mac thrust something at Jack, it was a condom.  He must have hesitated then because Mac stopped kissing him and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously Jack, I’m not drunk, this isn’t my first time, not even my first time with a guy, and I have the distinct the impression that you’re into it too.  What’cha waiting for?”  The rational part his brain knew that Mac didn’t mean it badly.  That single minded focus was part of what he loved about him.  But the words still shook something loose in Jack.  He pushed himself up (in what his brain was screaming was an act of cowardice) and ran.

Of course he didn’t get far.  His first thought was to just leave (both the house and quite possibly the state) but he realized two things in quick succession: One, running away was just going to make this mess exponentially worse and two, he had left his keys in his jacket pocket - which was still on the bedroom floor.

So he sat and waited for - well whatever Mac was going to say.  He figured that he’d be confused and probably angry.  Hopefully he’d just yell at Jack and tell him to leave - rather than demand a new partner tomorrow.

“I’m sorry.”  Mac’s words pulled him out of the rabbit trail Jack’s thoughts had gone down.  “I, I, was being selfish and stupid.  We can pretend this never happened or… if you want I can ask Matty to reassign me tomorrow.”  Jack’s heart thudded painfully at the thought of not working together, and Mac continued, “I know it was stupid of me to think you were interested.  Really, I’m sorry.”

“No.”  Jack shook his head, damn, why was his throat made of sandpaper and straw?  “I’m, it’s not that I’m not interested in you.”

Mac’s laugh had a cynical edge to it, “Well I must say, usually when someone runs out of the room rather than have sex it has at least vague connotations of  _ not being fucking interested _ .”

Before his brain caught up to his tongue Jack joked, “So lots of people run away from sex with you?” then winced, realizing that considering Mac’s history, it was far from funny.

“Just the ones I care about.”  The words were whispered so softly Jack almost missed them.  He felt his heart break a little more for his friend.  Everyone important in his life had abandoned him and now Jack had too.

“Mac, it’s…”

“Don’t worry about it Dalton.  Here (his keys dropped to the floor beside him.)  If you still want me to talk to the boss lady in the morning I will.”

Jack reached out and grabbed Mac’s arm before he could get up.

“I love you.”

“Wait, what?”  Mac’s head snapped around and he flopped back onto the floor, sounding stunned.

Jack took a deep breath.  Everything was already a mess so he might as well tell his last secret.  At least that way Mac could reject him and be done with it rather than think his friend just didn’t want him.

“I love you and don’t know how long it’s been, but yeah.  It kinda stopped being a joke when I said I could kiss you and it’s never been a joke when I said that if something happened to you it would kill me.”  He stopped talking then and waited.  He felt the wooden planks biting into his back and the night breeze across his cheek.  Mac sat to his left, outlined in the porch lights.  He looked beautiful - otherworldly even.  

(In some small corner of his mind Jack thought with a hint of amusement that Mac would laugh at him for using words like “otherworldly.”  He probably would ask him when he’d started reading romance novels.)

“Then why?”  Mac didn’t need to elaborate what he meant.

“Because either this was a one-time stress induced yay-we-didn’t-die thing or... well, either way you deserve better than me.”  Jack didn’t see the punch coming.

“Oww!  What was that for?”  Jack rubbed his shoulder and wished for a moment that he hadn’t taught Mac to fight  _ quite  _ so well.

“Fuck you Jack!  Fuck you for  _ daring  _ to think you know what’s best for me!”  Mac was up now pacing and yelling as he walked.  “Fuck you for treating me like some kid who’s too dumb to know his own mind.  Just - just FUCK YOU Jack Dalton!”  Then he dropped back to the floor and buried his face in his hands.  For a long moment he didn’t move, then Jack heard the sobs.  Steeling himself to get hit again he scooted over and wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders.  Mac collapsed against him.

“You know you saved my life right?”  The words were quiet and Mac wouldn’t look at him.  For the second time that night Jack felt all the air leave his lungs.  

“After - after the Ghost I stopped caring for a while.  The first thing they teach you in bomb school is “you have feelings about the bomb, the bomb doesn't have feelings about you.”  But I was so mad that I was alive and he wasn’t,”  (Jack could feel a shudder run through Mac’s frame) “and not just Pena but mom, and Grandad, and dad leaving, and well, I stopped caring.  I wanted to prove I was smarter than any stupid bomb.  I was  _ daring  _ each one to end me, and each time there was a part of me that was hoping that it would.  And that part of me just kept getting bigger and bigger.”

Jack couldn’t help but tighten his grip on Mac.  He’d suspected, the Mac he met eight years ago was very different from the one he knew today, but he had always hoped he was wrong.

“And then you came along, and you were loud, and you made horrible puns, and you have a fetish for shooting things, and dammit Jack! You were the only one who’s ever cared enough to stay!”  He pulled away then, scooted back until the foot or two between them felt like a mile, still not looking at Jack.  “Is it any wonder I fell in love with you?”

“What?”  For the second time that night Jack felt his brain go into overdrive.  Somewhere this conversation had veered off course from where he thought it was going and, for the life of him, he didn’t know what to say now.  

“I…”  Then he snapped his mouth shut (he could almost hear Riley in the back of his mind asking “is there nothing you can’t ruin with your mouth?”)  “I’m sorry.” That seemed like a safe thing to say.  “I never thought… I mean you’re  _ you  _ and there is no reason you would want…”

This time Mac’s laugh sounded a little less like he was gargling broken glass.  “Very true Jack, thinking does seem to challenge you on occasion.” the slap to his shoulder was friendly, “but hey, somehow it’s one of the things I love about you."

“Well it’s not my fault that your brain is so ginormous everyone else is dumb in comparison!” Jack pouted a bit for effect and was rewarded with another chuckle.

“So now what?”  Mac was actually looking at him again and Jack felt his heart do a complicated somersault, something between his first base jump and coming home after a long mission all wrapped up into one feeling.

“We could maybe try again?”  He searched Mac’s face and saw a smile start to form. “Like, if I love you and you seem to have the bad taste to put up with me…”

“Hey, I  _ love  _ you!  Stop talking bad about the man I love!”  Mac pounced on him then, managing to knock him off balance and send them both rolling into the side of the deck chair.  Jack ignored the burst of pain from hitting the floor because Mac was on top of him, straddling his hips, hands curled around his biceps, and he was pinning him down and kissing him hungrily, and Jack was certain that he never wanted to move again.


	2. Paperclip nooses

“And then Bozer threatened to make me into a meme if I hurt you.  I’m not even sure what that is but he assured me that it involved my face all over the internet and looking - and I quote -  “more stupid than usual.”  

It was late evening and Mac and Jack were curled up on Jack’s bed.  They had started the morning off by informing their friends about their new relationship and after the buzz from that settled down it had turned into a surprisingly quiet day at the Phoenix foundation.  

At least it had for Mac.  He had spent most of it looking over old case files then helping Riley work on her lock picking skills.  Jack on the other hand had not had such an easy day.  

One after another of their friends had come over and expressed their congratulations as well as the dire consequences that would rain down upon his head if he hurt MacGyver in any way.  Jack thought it was funny but Mac was rather offended by the whole thing, “Is it that they think I’m incapable of hurting you?  Or just that I’m not smart enough to take care of myself?” he groused.

Jack just laughed and held him tighter.  “Naw Mac, it’s just that everyone but you can see that I’m getting the better end of this deal.  Our friends know that and they care about you.  They don’t want some old geezer to take advantage of you.”  He twisted around and tried to pull Mac into a kiss but Mac was not going to be distracted.

“Because I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!  I got you in line the first time didn’t I?”  Jack snorted at that.

“Yes you did.  Quite effectively as I recall.”

 

Seven years six months earlier:

 

It had been a bad mission.  Not Ciaro bad (in fact Cairo wouldn’t happen for another two years) but still quite far from good.  The worst part is that it wasn’t even the job that was the problem this time, no this time they had been the problem - especially Jack.

Jack was self aware enough to get than he had been out of line.  He just wished that the kid would actually work with him rather than running  around (half the time leaving him in the dust) and then demand he find random bits of junk, usually while they were also under fire.

Now clearly the kid was brilliant, (Jack had gotten that on their first mission after he got them out of a locked shipping container that happened to be sinking underwater in the ocean) but he had no damn clue how to work with anyone else - and how he’d survived three years in the Army was beyond Jack.  And sure, it takes some time to settle in and get a feel for a new partnership but it had been almost six months and Jack was fed up.  Which led them to the day’s mission.

The mission wasn’t simple to begin with - break into a drug lord's mansion, find evidence of the hit he had ordered on a judge who had sent the man’s son to prison, and then get back out with the evidence and stop the hitman.  It only got more complicated when they were caught breaking out of the house with the laptop containing the files.

Seriously though, who has thumbprint scanners to get  _ out  _ of a room?  Mac had been muttering something about wood shavings and tin cans and the guys with guns were fast approaching from the rear so Jack made an executive decision and shot the lock and pushed Mac ahead of him out of the door.  The next several minutes were a blur of shooting and trying to stay alive so it took some time to register what it was that his partner was yelling in his ear about.

“It’s all gone you trigger happy jarhead!” A computer was being waved under his nose for emphasis.  Jack didn’t even begin to pretend to understand much about electronics but he suspected that black smoke probably shouldn’t be emanating from the back of the unit.

“That scanner that you shot out had a fail safe!  One that I was  _ about  _ to disarm when you went all GI Insane and triggered an EM pulse that wiped the hard drive!”  Jack’s response that the guys with guns weren’t going to wait for him to stuff cotton balls in the door and pick the lock with a garden hose earned him a death glare and Mac stalking off to call Thorton with an update.

“And I was Delta Force not a damn jarhead!”  Mac didn’t even grace that with a response.  

Plan B was even worse than plan A.  Now they were going to act as bodyguards for the judge and make sure that the hitman failed at his job.  This was complicated by the fact that the judge didn’t want their help (“I receive threats all the time,if I respond then I just look weak.) and was scheduled to be the keynote speaker at a large fundraiser that evening.

Two waiter uniforms, a shootout involving flying cocktail straws, and running up seven flights of stairs later the judge was unharmed and the hitman was hanging off the roof.  More specifically, he was hanging onto MacGyver’s tie and trying very hard to drag the kid off the roof with him in some desperate “if I go down so do you” move.  Mac was on his stomach, scrabbling at the roof and trying not to be dragged over the edge or choked to death.  In the half second it took for Jack to take in the situation Mac slid another few inches over the edge.  He’d never get to them in time so Jack did the only thing he could and pulled his gun.  The shot hit dead center and the hitman’s now bleeding arm released its grip.  His scream only ended when he hit the pavement below.

In retrospect it he’d just kept his mouth shut then he probably would have been ok.  He could have helped Mac up, made sure his partner was still breathing (and ranted later to Thorton about how ties are death traps that shouldn’t be allowed in the field,) and done his best to ignore how badly it had shook him to see Mac down and unable to fight back.  Instead he pulled Mac up and into a crushing bear hug.

“See!  Did you see that?  I’d like to see you get out of  _ that  _ with toothpicks and chewing gum!”  He let go and half skipped back, high on adrenaline and success.  “Maybe next time you won’t fuss so much when I shoot something!”  Mac had just glared at him for a second then pulled off his tie and stomped away.  Latter, after a long lecture from Thornton, Jack suggested beers at his place and Mac had shrugged and agreed.  You’d think the CIA would have trained him well enough to see when he was walking into a trap.

 

Green.  Not even a good camo green, but a neon bright, radioactive lollipop, green.  It must have been a two part die because it wasn’t until after he used the body wash and and started to shampoo his hair that the sickly color began to run down his skin in sudsy rivers.  No amount of scrubbing, cussing, or pleading with the universe would get it off.  Jack would have considered just shaving his head but the die was on his scalp (and face and hands and everywhere else) as much as on his hair.

In the end (and after three voicemails from Thornton in increasing volume and threat to his continued employment) he figured he was just going to have to suck it up and take his punishment like a man.  Hopefully Mac would relent soon and knew something to get it off.

When he got to the briefing room Thornton stopped pacing back and forth in front of the monitors to stare.  Her eyes snapped between Jack (and the giggling group tech personnel who were following him at a safe distance,) and MacGyver who was sitting nonchalantly at the desk working on a paper clip, and back again.  In the dozen odd years he had known the woman Jack had never seen her speechless before, it lasted for exactly nine seconds.

“I trust that will wear off before the next mission?”  She was looking at Jack but speaking to Mac.

“Yes Ma’am”  Mac didn’t even have the heart to sound sympathetic.  

“Good.  Sit down Dalton you’re late enough as it is.”  After the briefing Jack continued to stare at the files they had been given, not really looking forward to being a source of amusement for the various staff still hanging around outside the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Next time it will be pink.”  Mac pitched the words low enough that they were the only ones who could hear but the menace came through loud and clear.  Mac then straightened up and dropped something on the table in front of him and walked out of the room.  It was a hangman’s noose made out of a paperclip.  Jack pushed it into his pocket with a shiver. 

 

(present day)

 

“Well you did behave after that didn’t you?”  Mac sounded more fond than threatening as he idly traced patterns along Jack’s arm.  It was a habit Jack was starting to associate with him being relaxed.  

When they were at work or in the field they treated each other the way they always had; but when they got home, when everybody was safe and the good guys had saved the day once again, then Mac would reach out for him.  He’d grab Jack’s hand (usually stealing his beer in the process) and pull his arm around his shoulders.  Then while they were watching Bozer try to teach Riley to cook, or watching a movie, or what have you, he would start tracing circles on the back of Jack’s hand.  Slowly Jack could feel the tension bleed out of Mac and eventually his boyfriend would slump against him safe, relaxed, and surrounded by his family.  (This was usually also the point where Riley made gagging noises and pulled out her cell phone for blackmail material and Bozer, trator that he was, would back her up.)

“I guess I did  _ honey dearest _ .”  Jack’s drawl was far too satisfied to sound even remotely contrite.

“Ewww”  Mac slapped at his chest playfully, “Don’t call me that!”

“Well,  _ sugar plumb  _ it worked but maybe not quite how you intended it too.  I mean I certainly do have great respect for you and I quake in my boots at the thought of the pain and anguish you will inflict on me if I offend you but mostly...,” Jack’s hands move to Mac’s hips and he flips the two of them over so Mac is straddling him, “mostly I just kinda liked the idea of you putting something around my neck and making me behave.”  Mac rolled his eyes at that.

“You never behave Jack.”

Jack knew it was sappy, so sue him, he didn’t care.  He brushed a thumb along Mac’s cheek, loving the way his partner-now-boyfriend leaned into the touch. “I guess Love, you’re just going to have to keep trying for a long, long time.”  This time Mac didn’t protest the nickname at all.    


End file.
